Wolf V Shark: A DamagesScandal cross
by DavidB226Morris
Summary: What if David Rosen, while investigating the Cytron affair, came to the conclusion that it was too big for him? What if he decided that the only way to fight a wolf is with a shark? What if that shark was Patty Hewes?


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**Disclaimer: Olivia Pope, her team, David Rosen, and the members of the Grant administration belong to Shonda Rhimes and ABC, who frankly, could better be tasked in using them. Patty Hewes, Ellen Parsons, and her associates belong to KZK productions and FX. I hope I can do them (heh heh) justice.**

**Argument and calendar: For those who have decided to tune in, this is going to bear a closer resemblance to a season of _Damages _then one of _Scandal. _This means that we are going to begin an episode with a flashforward, then flashback to the present, and start telling the story of how we got from there to here, until we reach the final episode. This story will be the length of a typical season of Damages- 13 Chapters. To differentiate, flashforwards will be done in italics; the present will be in normal font**

**Also, I have made some alterations to the makeup of the calendar of both shows. In _Scandal, _the assassination attempt and other events following haven't happened yet. In _Damages, _this takes place after Season 3, but Ellen came back to work at Hewes & Associates after Tom Shayes died. Also, a couple of other characters from previous seasons, who I liked, will be making appearances.**

**Still there? Then let's begin.**

Chapter 1: _A Wet Dream for Rush Limbaugh_

_Georgetown_

_Not for the first time, James Novak found himself waking up alone. Either Cyrus had spent last night in the West Wing, or he had decided yet again to spend the night at the Hotel Baltimore. The sad truth was, the more time passed, James was having a hard time caring. It was beginning to seem that their marriage would be yet another victim of the Grant Administration's rigorous attempt to maintain business as usual in the face of reality._

_Even worse, James was finding it difficult to care about either. The more he investigated, the more he realized how much blood was on Cyrus Beale's hands. So much that he didn't think they'd ever been clean. What did that say about him, an investigative journalist who'd once been short listed for the Pulitzer, that he hadn't been able to see what was in front of his face for so long?_

Oh well, _he thought sourly, _there's a bright side. This way the extreme right _will _be able to say that gay marriage is just like heterosexual marriage. It can splinter and fall apart just as easily.

_As he tried to finish his morning coffee. James found himself changing the channel to CNN. Naturally, they had turned right to the news that they didn't want to hear, the story that would destroy the country as easily as it was eating away at his marriage. The usual talking heads were discussing whether or not anything had changed in the last three hours since they had assembled to discuss the exact same subject. The fact that nothing had didn't stop Anderson Cooper from asking more details from his panel of so-called experts. the ones from the right said that all this was meaningless slander, the ones on the left said that this was chickens coming home to roost, and of course, the same three words seemed to end every other sentence_

_Articles of Impeachment._

_None of this was going to have a happy ending. The fact that James was one of a handful of people to know at least a smidgen of the truth didn't make him feel any better or any more glad that he was going to have a front row seat at White House Press Corps in little more than an hour. He knew exactly what questions he would have to ask, which didn't make him feel like a million bucks. He took no pleasure in what his country was going to have to go through._

_Just then, his cell rang. No doubt it was his editor making sure he was up, ready to lunge for the story, like every other vulture._

_Except it wasn't. It was the D.C Police._

_"Is this James Novak?" After he acknowledged as much, the rough voice on the other end identified himself as Sergeant Walsh, Homicide._

_"What does this have to do with me? I'm not a police reporter."_

_The sergeant seemed tentative, unusual for a homicide cop at this time of day. "Mr. Novak, we'd appreciate if you could come down to 3 Police Plaza as soon as possibly could."_

_Ignoring the sinking feeling that was starting in his gut, he told the police that unless they were planning on putting bracelets around his wrists, he had no intention of talking to them. "Not unless you stop dicking around."_

_Sounding as weary as he felt, Sgt. Walsh finally caved. "We need your held IDing a body."_

6 Months Earlier

If our destinies really are determined by the most minute of details, David Rosen's was sealed after Abby left his apartment so enraged that she banged into his end table in her hurry to get out.

David had been planning chase after her, defend his actions, explain why the accusations of rape and assault were trumped up charges, that it was a million years ago, that it had nothing to do with their present situation. But when Abby slammed into his end table, one of the bobbleheads that had been on there for so long that David could no longer remember how long ago he had gotten, hit the floor, and fell apart. David knocked his foot against it, and saw what was inside it.

David was not a techno geek- he had trouble enough programming his DVR- but it didn't take much imagination for him to realize that what he was looking at was a miniature listening device. If he had been paranoid before about where his investigation into Olivia Pope had taken him before, he realized the implications of this the moment he saw it. He was tempted to grab it, run down the hallway, stop Abby, and tell her that this proved that they were on the right. His next impulse was grab it up, and run over to Olivia, and tell her to stop playing these games.

What stopped him from following those baser reactions was something that he couldn't explain- except that he put two and two together. Abby worked for Olivia. Olivia protected the hell out of her people- so she had set fire to her and David's relationship in some twisted version of protecting her. Which made him consider something he hadn't wanted to consider but now thought that he had too- could she have staged this relationship in the first place and Abby's reaction was part of a greater act, now that he was closing in on the truth?

_Truth about what? You have no clear idea what 'Perkins' links to Cytron is, you don't know who else is involved, and your last source gave you a dead end. The only think that you know is that someone very big is involved._

He was picking up the phone to dial his office, call somebody to help him, when another strike of no longer quite extreme paranoid thought struck him. _They've bugged your home, maybe they're bugging your phones, too? _Which made him wonder: _Could someone at my office be involved? Why else would they be so insistent that you get your job back only if you drop your investigation?_

This was the world of lunacy, of conspiracy nuts on the net saying that Hilary had had Foster killed, that Tony Blair had been a plant for the CIA, it was a world of madness- and every time he tried to dismiss that thought, he looked at the bobbleheads. Lunacy was selling short today.

He needed to do _something, _there had to be some way to go on the offensive, and confrontation wouldn't work- Olivia Pope was the master of dodging salient question. But what?

Without consciously thinking of it, he found himself placing the bug back into the bobblehead, and putting it back together. He didn't know whether whoever placed this device would be back in his apartment, he didn't know whether they would see through his ruse, but suddenly proving his point to Abby seemed the greater risk.

Then he walked out of his apartment, and headed to his nearest Sprint store. David wanted to talk to somebody with experience with this kind of bullshit, so he wanted to make his next call on a phone that he could trust.

After Harrison saw Abby leave, he felt a bitter pang overcoming him. He knew it couldn't be his conscience- that thing had been sold along with his soul years ago. However, the fact that he had sold out a friend's chance at happiness didn't exactly fill him with joy. That was why, after he called Olivia and told her the David Rosen situation had been handled, it took him a couple of minutes to find the will to get moving. That was the only reason he saw David walk out of his apartment, and head with determination towards his car.

Harrison would've ignored it, except that David did something not in the script once he reached his vehicle- he stopped and started walking down the street. In D.C. At night. In December.

He didn't know David Rosen any better than anyone else, but he had been in the arena long enough to recognize someone who was genuinely spooked. Something had happened in that apartment besides the end of his relationship with Abby.

For the first time, he wished Huck was handling this assignment instead of him. Huck could track a man for days without coming up for air. David might not have all the answers, but he could figure out he was being followed by the most conspicuous black man in D.C.

So rather then follow the man whose relationship he had helped dynamite, Harrison decided to go back to his apartment. He felt shitty enough as it was, he didn't need to stalk him. So he didn't follow Rosen or tell Olivia what had just happened.

It would be a decision that he would have cause to replay over and over the next few weeks, and even given the enormous consequences, he couldn't find himself regretting his decision.

"You're right that something smells funny, David, but you don't have enough evidence to drag anybody into court."

"I work for the Justice Department, we've been given pretty much a blank check for this, but the fact is I have reached the limits of my resources. I need someone else to take up the charge."

"Bureau's not going to get involved; you don't have enough for that-"

"That's not why I called you." Now came the part that David really didn't want to follow through with. "The law firm that your brother worked for."

"_No. _Christ, that woman is just short of Satan Himself."

"What was that quote by Churchill? To defeat evil itself, I would take help from the devil.' I think that's where I am right now."

"You've seen what this woman does to the people she fights against? What you're asking could grind the government into the dirt!"

"I'm not asking for permission, Maggie. I'm asking for her address."

"You're not going to just _call _her?"

"Technically, I'm still on administrative leave. I think I can afford to spend a few days in New York. Besides, face to face she's less likely to reject me."

There was a bitter laugh on the other end. "There's no telling what that bitch is capable of."

"You have a good reasons for hating her. So do I, strictly speaking. But even you have to admit this is the kind of case she'd jump on."

"All I'm saying is that you'd better be absolutely sure of this, David. "

"Believe me, I'm sure."

"Hewes and Associates is on the Upper East Side. Eighty-First and Lexington. It's hard to miss the place," Maggie Shayes told him. "Sometimes, I wish I'd never heard of it."

David was not an idiot. He went back to his apartment on got everything he had managed to put together on Cytron over the past couple of months. Then he spent nearly half an hour on Lexus, making sure he knew everything he could get on Patty Hewes over the last few years. He'd go over the rest on the midnight train to New York

He was pretty sure that his office had investigated Hewes more than once over the past decade, but the woman was more Teflon than Reagan in his heyday. There was a very good chance that he could make a good presentation to her, and still she'd tell him to take a fucking leap. The fact that he worked with Justice would cut zero ice with her - she was prominent for criticizing the government no matter which party was in power.

As he looked over at the major cases that she had been investigating the past three years, he began to get a hint of what Maggie Shayes was talking about. She tilted at windmills most lawyers wouldn't even run towards - titans of industry, energy magnates, corrupt investment bankers - and she had prevailed every time. She didn't seem to mind the collateral damage to her and just about everybody around here. Her marriage had ended in a shambles, her teenage son had disappeared of the face of the earth a year ago, and a lot of the people who had worked with her over the years had ended up dead. Small wonder Maggie didn't want him going anywhere near her.

For the first time since Quinn Perkins's case had been dismissed, David considered the possibility that he might end up dead. The fact that they were tapping his apartment meant that they considered him a risk; doing this might lead to him simply being disappeared. He didn't think Olivia was that cold, but the people she worked with- whoever they were- they probably figured it might be easier to end his life. Maybe the higher-up didn't just want him to end his involvement on this case because of his reputation there.

Maybe it was a warning.

He considered it for several minutes. Just dropping the whole thing, and going back to work the next day, Cytron far from his mind. Then his eye fell on the bobblehead.

_Fuck that_, he thought to himself. _I'm going to see this through. One way or the other._

_Novak had never worked the police beat for the Post, and even though DC had one of the highest homicide rates and lowest closure rates in the entire country, he had stuck with paper's position that Washington the epitome of charming and collegial. But while he had often seen the seamy side of the political underbelly, he had never seen the criminal side, until now. _

_He couldn't figure out why the DC police would need him to ID a body. Cyrus was the closest thing he had to family in the capital (the rest of the Novak clan was scattered throughout New England), and while he had his share of shady sources, all of them were only morally bankrupt, not criminal.. Who did he know who could've ended up dead?_

_Having never been here. he honestly didn't expect to recognize anybody. But when he entered the building, he did see a familiar face. Only it wasn't anyone from this police station._

_"Wes?" he asked slowly. _

_It was indeed Wes Krulik. Over the past couple of months, when what was probably going to be the story of the decade was starting to unfold, he had become familiar with the man. Ex-NYPD, Krulik had gone into private security a couple of years earlier. That was the term _he _used, but James hadn't been born yesterday. He knew Wes was a security man for Ellen Parsons, and if Ellen Parsons had called him in, that meant somehow Patty Hewes was at the bottom of this little rendezvous._

_"I'm sorry you got called into this, Mr. Novak," Krulik said with that mix of Western drawl and Manhattan, "but there aren't a lot of people in this city that I trust."_

_This was bullshit, of course. If there was one thing James knew, it was that paranoia ran rampant among Patty Hewes' people, with trust playing a distant second before necessity. The only reason you were let into anybody's confidence was to how useful that person could be before you were discarded. That was the only reason that he had been allowed this close to what was unfolding._

_"Don't tell me you're the reason the cops turned to a hated reporter instead of one of their former brothers in blue," he told him cynically. Krulik shrugged._

_"My reputation only goes as far as the state of New York," he told him. "You know who were deposing today."_

_Maybe he was still having trouble shaking the sleep out of his eyes, but suddenly James Novak began to put two and two together. "You're saying it's about him?"_

_"He's not in his apartment, and he's not answering any of the numbers we have for him," Krulik admitted. "I know that there are easier ways to find him than this, but right now, we'd rather have local law enforcement involved than federal."_

_Given the stakes, James wasn't sure he could blame him. "I was called here because they said-"_

_"And that's why you are here," Krulik told him, "but until we actually have proof of death, I think we damn well better keep quiet about as much of this as possible." His eyes flicked ahead. "For the immediate future, at least."_

_James turned around to see two cops walking towards him "Mr. Novak, I'm Sgt. Oscar Walsh with Homicide, this is Detective Macevoy," the larger one identified himself. "Thank you for coming on such short notice."_

_"You said that you needed my help identifying a body," he told them flatly. "But you didn't give me much information as to why."_

_The two cops exchanged glances. "Sir, there's a procedure for these things-" Sgt. Walsh began_

_James held up his hand. "I realize you've got a long day ahead of you. So have I. I think we'd all be better served by cutting the bullshit, and getting down to business. So why am I here?"_

_"Late last night, one of the harbor units fished a body out of the Potomac," Walsh told him. "Been in the river at least a day, but the decomp seems to have eroded his face and his hands. No wallet, no ID. It looks like some kind of mob hit, but then we fished this out of his pocket."_

_He handed him an evidence bag with a business card in it. The water had done some damage to the ink, but _JAMES NOVAK, Washington Post _was still legible._

_"That's why you called me. Why did you call him?" James spoke brusquely to try not to reveal how shaky he felt seeing his card returned to him in that matter._

_"We didn't" The detective spoke up for the first time. "But he was the only person who answered when we called this number."_

_The detective removed another baggie with yet another business card in it. This one was even more damaged, but the writing was still legible. _ELLEN PARSONS, HEWES & ASSOCIATES.

When she had been first hired at Hewes and Associates, Ellen Parsons had been given a very specific list of guidelines for how to handle things at her office by Tom: Don't put out any personal touches, certainly nothing involving family or loved ones, don't bring in a lot of stuff, not more than you can bring out in a single box when she fires you. That had been the underlying threat that had been implied: _when. _Patty will use you up, and throw you out when she's done with you.

Well, she'd come back to these offices after being let go not once, but twice, and she still hadn't changed things much. There were, if anything, fewer photographs then there had been when she'd first arrived three years ago. A picture of her late fiancé, David Conner, was still very prominent. She'd kept it here as a reminder, though whether that reminder was symbolic for her or Patty, she didn't know even now. There were a few family photos, but considering how little contact she'd had with her sister, or the people who she thought had been her parents over the past few months, she wondered even if they had any meaning for her.

Her parents had never understood why she was still here, after all the torture and bloodshed that had filled their lives because of Patty Hewes. For that matter, Ellen wasn't sure why she had come back, considering that at least twice she had left her determined never to set foot in the place that had emotionally scarred her. Maybe it was out of loyalty to Tom, who even though he'd been used by Patty as much, if not more, as so many of the other people in her life, deserved someone here to carry out his legacy. Or maybe it was because she had seen so many of the emotional wounds that her employer was dealing with- the implosion of her marriage, the disappearance of her very troubled son, the day after Tom was found dead, trying to raise her granddaughter, knowing full well how deeply she had failed as a mother before.

Certainly she hadn't formed much of a connection with anyone else at this firm before or since she had rejoined. Everybody figured she was still the fair-haired girl considering that she had somehow survived her experiences. And Patty did seem to turn to her on occasion, but Ellen knew better than to think it was out of any personal connection. It was because she was the only one left.

The thing was, Ellen wasn't alone . She had made connections on the outside during the year she had worked for the city. Most of them were there, because of her, not Patty. And even though she was still heading the firm, there was talk (most of it behind her back) that Hewes had gotten softer ever since Tom had died, that raising a child had tamed her a little.

Ellen knew this was not the case. Ever since Tom had been murdered, Patty had grown a little more circumspect in what cases she had taken. There hadn't been a case as meaty as the Frobisher or the Tobins for awhile. Patty seemed to be waiting for one to come to her rather then searching them out.

Just then, Patty appeared. She still did what she had been doing ever since they had met almost three years ago, popping in and out of her associates offices, making sure that things were up to her code. But some of the vitality that had been in her all those years ago seemed... sapped for awhile. For the first time, Patty Hewes was looking her age.

"I took a look at those listings for those PIs you gave me," Patty told her. "Frankly, I'm amazed that Mr. Krulik agreed to sit for an interview at all."

"The pay is four times what he makes for the state," Ellen pointed out "And we live in the most expensive city in the country. In his own way, Wes has been as pragmatic as all of us."

"That's the only reason he agreed to it?" Patty asked.

"Wes and I have decided to remain friends. We realize it would be foolish to try to be anything else."

Patty considered this. "That's very sensible of you. One can't afford to make too many attachments."

_I'm not you. _Ellen didn't say this because she was afraid of hurting Patty's feelings. She wasn't cold enough to think that they weren't there, because she knew otherwise. But she knew her boss well enough not to suggest otherwise.

"We have a visitor coming it at 2:00. Man from the Justice Department thinks he has a case for us."

Ellen knew this was a big deal. Patty usually took clients one on one. "This official business?" she asked.

"He wouldn't tell us over the phone." This was significant. Hewes & Associates didn't take clients off the streets.

"Why are we even giving him the courtesy of listening?" she asked.

"He's an old friend of Tom's. Besides, it's not good business to ignore Justice when they show up on your doorstep. It sets a bad precedent. We'll give him half an hour."

"You're not even interested?"

"I don't take things second hand."

Olivia Pope was in the process of trying to extricate a junior Congressman from Alabama being caught in a motel room with a woman who wasn't his wife- bad enough, but the woman was a socialite married to the senior senator from Georgia. The two men were on opposite ends of the political spectrum, and Harrison had already had to break up two potential fistfights. Both gentlemen were members of opposing political parties, which meant that no matter how the media spun did, someone's ass was going to get reamed, and neither of her clients wanted it to be them

On top of this, Abby was walking around looking severely deflated Harrison was having trouble looking her in the eyes, and Quinn had been shooting dirty looks at Huck every five minute for the last three days.. It was, all things considered, a light day for Olivia, but the last thing she needed was a distraction. And hearing from the man she'd paid to have David Rosen's house wired for sound was definitely that.

"What do you mean, you think they found the bug?" she told the person whose real name she didn't know.

"At 10:53 p.m., Mr. Rosen arrived at his house. Five minutes later, a woman stormed out in some distress." Olivia tried to ignore this particular statement. "For a period of one minute, thirty seven seconds, we lost audio on transmitter one. When it was restored, Mr. Rosen left his apartment for approximately twenty-nine minutes."

"Where did he go?" she asked.

The man gave an awkward pause. "Miss Pope, your orders were very specific. Apartment and telephones monitored, GPS in his vehicle. Beyond we have no further instructions at your order."

"So you have no record of where he was?" Olivia hoped like hell Hollis or Cyrus didn't have any surveillance on Rosen as well, because the last thing they needed to know right now was that she had taken her eye off the ball. "What about his job? Did he take the offer from Justice?"

"We're not certain. According to his office, he was taking a couple of personal days to think over his decision."

Warning bells were going off in Olivia's head. The last time David had taken personal days, Abby had helped guide him back to the path he had been about to vacate. Abby was no longer in the picture, but there was no telling whether she had led him one last trail before breaking up with him.

"Do you have any idea where he is right now?"

"Activity on his credit card says that he bought a train ticket to New York late last night. "

New York was definitely the wrong direction for this particular story, but David didn't have family or friends there, and if he was going to the media, well, even the _Times _was online now.

Just to make things more fun, her phone rang. "What are you going to do about the no longer quite so distinguished gentleman from Alabama?"

Typical Cyrus, breaking in on matters that didn't concern him without even breathing for an explanation. "You don't need to sound so smug."

"This is the same guy who every time DOMA comes up for renewal gives three hours on the sanctity of the institution of marriage. I'm just glad to see that chickens occasionally come home to roost."

"That's a striking lack of concern from a member of your own party, Cyrus."

"Please; the guys an empty suit. He barely survived his last primary challenge; this could make sure he doesn't survive the next one. Understandably, the White House would be more inclined to deal with someone less... repressed."

Cyrus didn't mess with her business unless he had a higher purpose in mind. "What is this really about?"

The false cheer disappeared from Cyrus' voice. "I had another call from our friend from Ohio," he told her. "He needed reassurances that the situation with David Rosen had been handled."

"I said it's under control," Olivia's tone got harder.

So did Cyrus'. "Then what's he doing in New York? " So much for that particular hope.

"The Nationals are playing the Mets, and he wanted to see RA Dickey pitch. How the hell should I know? And by the way, I told you I was handling this, so why are his people following him?"

"Since when have any of us been able to tell Hollis what to do?" Cyrus reminded her. "Olivia, I'm doing my best to handle them, but you know what he's like. If this situation comes back to us-"

Olivia's client had just taken a swing at Harrison. "We're working on different branches of the government. You handle your issues, and I'll handle mine." She cut Cyrus off, and went back to her conversation with sound man. "Get eyes on David. Get them on him now"

David had made a calm, succinct, and orderly presentation which, considering how outlandish some of the theories were, was nothing short of remarkable. Hewes and Parsons had listened very politely, and had asked very few questions. From their tone and behavior, it seemed that they were listening to him.

But David Rosen had spent the past sixteen years examining the faces of witnesses and juries, and he knew what this all added up to. Patty Hewes had been looking at both twice as long, but he could still read the words NO SALE on her face. This was nothing more than courtesy, which in itself was surprising considering that she was notorious for having none with just about everybody else..

"So just to be clear, you believe that Olivia Pope is somehow behind a plan that allowed a women who committed multiple homicides walk away from her crimes, because this somehow connects to an energy company fraud." Patty Hewes told him. "This sounds like a very juicy case, and I'm surprised that Justice hasn't jumped at the chance to prosecute."

The traditional withering sarcasm. "The conditions of getting my job were based on the insistence that I cease investigating this case," he told her.

"And I suppose that this is part of the same conspiracy."

"For all I know, the Attorney General himself is one of the people pulling the strings," David went on doggedly. "I don't know who else would have the power to convince a federal judge to dismiss my case, absent any kind of defense."

"Mr. Rosen, you do understand the kind of cases that I take on," she replied calmly.. "I'm a civil practitioner. The kind of justice you want will not come from any kind of lawsuit that I were to bring against... well, you haven't even told me who you would recommend suing."

This was a procedural point that just about any other lawyer worth a damn would have mentioned. "It would be difficult, but I believe you could start with Olivia herself. I may not be certain of anybody else, but I am convinced that she is involved in conspiring to cover it up. And if Olivia's involved, any one of her clients- which could be just about anyone officially or unofficially connected with the government - is likely to be involved. As your investigation progressed, I'm certain you could put names to some of these people with far more certainty then I could."

Patty seemed to consider this for a couple of beats. "I'll admit that's a workable strategy, but there are any number of attorneys in the Beltway who would be more than willing to jump at the chance. And yet for some reason, you bypassed all of them to come to a complete stranger. Do you know what that sounds like, Mr. Rosen?"

David knew this was something of an insult. "My immense confidence in your abilities?"

"It's sounds like you're trying to dump an orphan on someone who has spent her entire life picking up strays."

David swallowed. "I've heard you called a lot of things, by people both on the right and the left, but den mother was never one of the nouns used," he told her with false cheer.

"They do call me a mother on occasion, but it's usually paired with another word." Hewes smiles, but it never reached her eyes. David knew that he was looking at the public side of a very private person.

"Miss Hewes, these people are bugging my apartment. That would seem to suggest that there's something to it, doesn't it?" David was trying to be patient, but he couldn't help note a little desperation was sneaking into his voice.

"That is indicative of something," Patty admitted, "but that would seem to be a problem that your department is fitted to handle. Why not come to them with this?"

"Aside from the possibility that somebody from my office might be the one responsible?" David told her. "Miss Hewes, over the last few months, I've been deserted by a lot of people. People that, until recently, I believed were good friends. And when can't have faith in your friends, and you don't know who your enemies are, the only people you can trust are strangers."

Patty seemed to consider this for a few moments. "There's definitely some truth in that," she admitted, "but you managed to get this appointment by using a contact of someone who once was practically family to me.. And as you must be well aware, the government has launched investigations into both me and my firm several times over the past twenty years."

There was no point in denying this. David had seen the files himself a couple of years ago, when the previous administration had been less inclined to regard Patty as a patriot. "This is not one of those times, I assure you."

"Convince me, Mr. Rosen."

_What the fuck_, he thought. _Total candor is one of the few things that this woman respects._

_"_Miss Hewes, Maggie Shayes gave me your number. I had to practically beg her to give it to me." he started. "Do you know why?"

The facade flickered for the briefest of moments. "I can imagine that Maggie doesn't think very highly of me."

"She believes you killed her brother." This did get a reaction, but from Parsons, who up until now hadn't said anything. "Oh, she knows that Louis Tobin killed him, but she's certain that you put his body in front of the knife more than any other person. But the fact of the matter is, even if Tom Shayes was still alive, it would have taken just as much of an effort for me to come here in the first place."

No reaction. "Miss Hewes, I've had the misfortune of arguing cases against some of the scummiest, dirtiest, corrupt and morally bankrupt attorneys that have ever graduated from mail-order law schools. I'd still rather deal with them than with you. In DC, attorneys will do anything possible to get their client off, rules be damned, sanctity be damned, the law be damned. The ends totally justify the means. But at least with them, I can understand why they do what they do." He looked at her. "I can't understand what motivates you. You've won dozens of high-profile cases, you've embraced every good cause under the sun, the world thinks that the sun rises and sets on Patty Hewes. But with you, it's not about doing the right thing. It's not about getting the best result for your client. I don't even think its about winning or losing. It's about total destruction of anyone who gets in your way. Stabbing and cutting until there isn't a spark of life in the body any more.."

"Then why are you in this office if you find me so repugnant?" Patty's voice wasn't angry, if anything, she just sounded curious.

"I believe the people who Olivia Pope and whoever she's protecting have utterly and totally corrupted justice, and will not think twice, or even once, about killing whoever gets in their way." A smile appeared on David's face. It was not a pleasant one. "These people deserve to be eviscerated. They deserve to be bombed into the Stone Age. The traditional law, the law I have practiced and sworn to defend, will not touch these people. But the kind of law you practice..." He trailed off. "I need a shark. Are you that shark?"

Patty didn't answer. David was surprised to find he didn't care. "Well, I've done my shtick, and you've been reasonable. I hope I'll hear from you, one way or the other."

"You don't intend to even try anyone else?" Parsons was speaking for the first time.

"It's not like there's anyone else out there that can strike fear into the hearts of DC. One last thing, though, then I am out of your hair," David began picking up some of his stuff, "I took a certain amount of precautions getting here, but I can't say with any degree of certainty that I haven't been followed. So watch out for any strange calls, and I'd be prepared for one fuck of an audit in the not too distant future."

"Leave me the trial transcript," Parsons told him

"Why? You want to grade my penmanship?" David told her bluntly. "Fine. " He took out a pen. "This is my new cell. I'm relatively sure they're not tapping the line. Call me. Don't call me. Entirely up to you."

But apparently he'd reached some decision in his head, because he left the transcript there.

The man who Cyrus Beene only knew as Charley' called him later that day. "I've backtracked Mr. Rosen's step to Grand Central, and to a cabbie who took him to downtown Manhattan. He asked to be let out in the middle of the East Side rather than any particular address. I've been working on tracking his exact movements, but there's any number of people he could've come to see or talked with."

"Do you believe Rosen's onto you?" Cyrus demanded.

"He hasn't seen me if that's what you're concerned about," Charley told him, "but I think that he's got suspicions if he didn't use his car last night, and he's paying cash for everything."

"That's all we need," Cyrus muttered.

"Look, Sir, I did this out of respect for our history, but this penny ante shit is a waste of my time and talent," The man who had already committed one murder for Cyrus spoke slowly. "Unless you want to accelerate the process."

Hollis Doyle had made his opinions of the situation abundantly clear the last time they had been in the same room, but as big a nusiance as Rosen was at the moment, he was ready to burn that bridge yet. "Find out where he spent his afternoon, and come back to DC," he told him. "This may be a situation that can be handled more with the carrot than the stick."

Ellen had been going over the transcript for the last few hours, looking for whatever loophole in the law had been done for Perkins' attorney to ask for a dismissal without presenting a defense. She hadn't considered criminal law since graduating, but the fact was the late Melvin Belli wouldn't have been taken seriously had he tried such a backdoor maneuver. Rosen had argued one of the most airtight cases, but even a far weaker attorney would have had a hard time losing a conviction with the evidence before him.

It would certainly seem that someone had been Quinn Perkins, a.k.a 'Elizabeth Mason's rabbi, and considering who she was working for, that could be someone very high up the political ladder. These kinds of strings were pulled for the children of congressmen over carrying an ounce of cocaine during spring break, not being responsible for a bombing that had killed seven people.

Patty had been willing to let her read the transcript and see if there was any room for doubt on Rosen's part, but she had been standing firm on the principle that she had no intention of taking over a case she still considered 'a dog.' Ellen had thought otherwise, and had slipped Rosen her business card before he had left the building, not that she thought he would use it. He'd come here seeking Patty Hewes' help. Anything else would be a disappointment.

"I thought you left the city 'cause you hated the paperwork."

There was a voice she hadn't heard in nearly six months. "Wes!," Ellen said, looking up "I didn't think your final interview was for another week."

Wes Krulik hadn't changed much in the last few months, but he looked out of place in the suit he was wearing. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you before I got my final sitdown," he told her. "I hoped to get an honest answer from you."

"You want to know why I'm working for Patty again," she cut to the chase.

"Considering the last time, it ending with you pointing a gun at her, I figure it's a fair question for someone who's licensed to carry one."

Here was a chance to make the argument she'd been circling around with over the last few months. "I'll admit from what I said you must have thought Patty was the devil herself."

"At the time, I was being paid to think that way, yes," Wes was a lot more honest about what had been an awkward situation between them when they had first met.

"I wanted to see Patty dead at one point," she told him frankly. "But then I saw what kind of place the rest of the world is. There is no pure black or white, just dull gray. She's trying to do the right thing for her clients, whatever the cost. That's better than most."

Wes considered this. 'I suppose I should be arguing that's just another load of bullshit, but considering how some of my past employers have been, I'm not really in a position to throw stones."

"So are you really just doing this for the money?" Ellen hadn't felt anything romantic towards Wes in a very long time, but she felt lonely same as everybody else.

Wes considered this for a moment, but before he could answer, Patty entered the office. "Mr. Krulik, I didn't realize you were prepping for your interview already."

"Just wanted to get a look of the lay of the land," Wes replied.

Patty looked at Ellen. "I'm sorry to put you through this, Ellen, but, as you know I'm between nannies at the moment. Something's come up and I need you to watch Andrew for the next ninety minutes."

Normally, an associate would've been pissed off to get handed the job watching the boss' kid, especially considering how high the turnover rate was with Patty's caregivers. But Ellen knew that she was being asked because she was the only person her boss trusted with her flesh and blood. "I can find the time. Is there anything I need to know about?"

"Someone from the New York chapter of the DNC. Probably want to hit me up for a fundraiser."

Patty had already been hit up by the Governor's Mansion, three different candidates for Mayor, and half a dozen politicos from the State Assembly, Senate and District Attorney's office. And considering that the primary season was still over four months away, she expected that a lot of people would be asking for her time and money, and she had started to become familiar with half of the elected officials in the state.

But it still came as something of a mild surprise when she saw that the visitor was in fact the Chairman for the New York DNC, someone whom she had known when she had been clerking for the State Supreme Court twenty-eight years and who had spent the last few years doing his damnedest to avoid all social contact with her.

"Nathan." she told him. "Your office didn't tell me I was meeting with you."

"I asked them not to let it get out," Nathan told her with the typical politician's smile on his face. "Considering our history, I need to avoid even the appearance of impropriety."

Patty could've mentioned a half-dozen opportunities in the last election cycle, most notably when Elliot Spitzer had been raked over the coals, where he'd flagrantly bent his own rules. But she held her tongue, as she was a little curiously why Nathan was meeting with her.

"Well, I'm interested why you'd go to all this trouble to set up a meeting."

"I know you appreciate honesty, so I'll get straight to the point. Reardon in the tenth made it clear that this will be his last term." Howard Reardon was one of the few conservatives in the New York delegation. The DNC had been trying to unseat him for the last three elections, and kept coming maddeningly close, but ultimately losing all of their elections- the last one had taken two recounts before Reardon had emerged victorious. "Considering how much trouble we had last time, we want to put the strongest possible candidate on the ticket next time.

"And who have you got in mind?" Patty asked.

"You."

It was not easy to surprise Patty Hewes, and she was extremely good at keeping her reactions to herself, but this still came as a huge shock. "Me?"

"You've been active in Democratic politics for nearly twenty years, you're one of the greatest heroes to the left, and you're so anti-crime, you can almost bank on support coming across the aisle Considering the battles you've waged all across the legislative world, I'm only shocked you haven't considered it yourself.."

"I've also made a shitload of enemies, from both sides of the political spectrum," Patty reminded him. "And even you can't have noticed that the last three administrations have considered me an enemy of the people. I'm still shocked the last one didn't throw me in Guantanamo. Not to mention that my family life is practically a wet dream for Rush Limbaugh."

"Have you seen some of the people the right have had on the ballot in the last few elections?" Nathan reminded her. "They really can't be serious about throwing stones, especially considering the last bunch? Besides, have you read some of the decisions coming out of DC. You've been tilting at titans for decades. This is the big time."

"I'm glad to know that you think my helping the right people get justice was something I did so I could one day get a government job," Patty was starting to get tired of the sales pitch. "Especially at the bottom of the totem pole, which is where a freshman Congressman ends up."

"Everybody starts at the bottom somewhere, Patty, that is how we get to the top." Nathan was being far more patient then the average pol. "You know that as well as anyone."

There had been requests before for Patty to seek elected office, but this was the first time someone so high up had made so blatant a plea. She was going to flat out say no, when something occurred to her. Given the way politics was now, one could even just decide to run for the statehouse just a few months in advance. Fundraising took a lot of time, and Reardon probably had a couple of SuperPacs on his side by now. Even with her name recognition- which she had to admit was considerable- and the DNC's support, she was going be down in money at least three to one if she said yes right now.

This wasn't a serious offer. It was a distraction. And the only reason people tried to distract her was to get her to leave a case. And she hadn't been at the head of any major litigation for a few...

A very intriguing idea crossed her mind. "So what do I have to do to get this process started?"

David was considering what his next step was. Go back to work. Confront Olivia. Throw out those bobbleheads that he still hadn't had the nerve to touch since he'd gone back to his apartment. Or call Ellen Parsons and see if she had seen anything in those transcripts.

There was one thing he wasn't going to do, and that was beg for help. The speech he had made had sounded bold in his head, but replaying the moment in his head later, it had smacked of desperate anger. Instead of confronting the people he had thought were responsible, he had gone to a total stranger, looking and sounding like a lunatic. He knew what he would've done if the situations had been reversed; he would've told himself to fuck off and stop wasting his time. The fact that Patty Hewes had not done just that meant that she had a level of tact that Maggie Shayes had been certain she didn't have.

His new cell rang. He froze. No one knew that he had changed his number. He hadn't talked to anyone but Ellen and Maggie since he'd bought the cell. Still, he let it ring twice before picking it up. It took him that long to get outside his apartment. "David Rosen."

"Mr. Rosen, this is Ellen Parsons."

"Yes?"

"Are the documents you gave Patty everything you have on the Quinn Perkins case?"

"Everything I gathered after three months of investigative work. Has Miss Hewes decided that she's going to take my case?"

"She wants to have her own people look into it; see if there's more to your case than just pissing in the wind, and calling it rain."

"Her words?" David asked.

"You've obviously never spent much time in New York."

He chuckled for the first time since he had come home to find Abby in his apartment when he had come home three days ago.

"Mr. Rosen, as someone who knows Patty a lot better than you do, I feel I should give you some advice." Ellen paused. "Be extreme careful in what you say and do."

"My apartment's being bugged; I'm watching every word I say."

"That's not what I mean." Ellen seemed to be choosing her words carefully. "If Patty makes your cause her own, she will fight hard for victory. But there's always collateral damage. And a lot of people could end up getting...hurt."

David didn't know Ellen Parsons at all, but even he could tell that she hadn't been about to use that as her last word. Nonetheless, he took a moment before he told her: "I think this is the right thing to do. I think the people involved in this should pay, and if there are consequences, well, to quote Jim Garrison, let justice be done, if the heavens fall."

_"There's been some damage to the body, and we haven't yet proceeded with the autopsy" Sgt. Walsh told them. _

_"What about fingerprints or DNA?" Krulik asked._

_"He wasn't in the system in either," Macevoy told them. "We don't want to call in next of kin until we're absolutely sure."_

_It seemed like a piss-poor way to do police work, but James , who only got his information on law enforcement from CSI, knew that he wasn't in a position to bitch._

_The detective walked to the computer, which he had assured them was linked to the morgue. "Only bit of internet software we've gotten in the last five years." He tapped several keys, and the picture came up._

_The clarity of the image left something to be desired, and there was definitely a lot of erosion, but it didn't matter. James recognized the picture, and although he kept a good poker face, Wes did too._

_The man on the slab was David Rosen._

.


End file.
